


The Space Above the Streets

by theseamofthesky



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseamofthesky/pseuds/theseamofthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Escaping to the rooftops of New York is not solely the preserve of newsboys. Katherine reflects on her first journey towards the sky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Space Above the Streets

When she stands atop the roof, she is a giant who stands astride an entire city. **  
**

When she makes her first step onto the fire escape, one neatly laced boot remains on the dusty Manhattan pavement. Deep under that dust lies the heavy weight of her father’s empire. His snaking influence runs in dark currents under the earth; whispering voices, scratching pens, clacking typewriters taking his orders out to a waiting world.

Under the thin metal step, there is nothing but empty air.

It may only be six inches off the ground and that space may be filled with debris from the street that has been stirred up by the hot evening wind, but that step is still the border.

That step is the snaking red line that divides kingdoms, the fathoms deep river that cuts through towering mountain ranges.

It may only be six inches high, but from the first time she ascended she knew that she had entered another world.

***

The first time that she had snuck out of her home she had clutched a small bag as tightly to her chest as a newborn baby. The bag had only contained a leather-bound notebook, a pen and a few dollars worth of change. And a contingency pen, in case the first one broke and the ink spoilt the bag’s pale blue lining.

She had clung to her lifeline as she was buffeted along the streets, her gaze fixed firmly to the floor.

She had come looking for a story but found herself overwhelmed by them. Every footfall and every shouted conversation was the front for a story and to catalogue even a drop in this ocean of humanity was a lifetime’s worth of work.

With ears more accustomed to the hallowed halls of a city mansion, her task seemed no less than Herculean.

She had taken refuge in the alleyway. She had taken a handful of deep, reassuring breaths and leant against the cool brick wall. The sudden flood of anxiety had washed away any residual traces of gingerness.

She would have been happy to take her refuge there, to recover there and then to scramble home before darkness fell, if it had not been for a shadow falling across the alleyway’s opening.

There was a darkness at the corner of her eye that seemed to turn the pleasant coolness of the shade to a deep chill.

No sound came but the figure looming there grew closer.

Pushing off from the wall, she prepared to screw her courage to the sticking place and brazenly walk past the man.

Her thoughts wheeled giddily to the headline that The World might run tomorrow: ‘Heiress corpse found headless in alley’.

Just as she was about to make her move the metal runs of the fire escape ladder caught her eye. Without a second thought she began her ascent, pulling herself upwards with sharp tugs with her arms as though the rooftop was her life’s destination.

She did not relax her pace; even when it was clear that no footsteps were following her up the ladder.

***

When she had reached the top her lungs were burning and her hands were burnished with rust. She brushed the briskly on her skirt, stopped guiltily, then continued with a small smile as the realisation that no one would criticise her here came.

As her hammering heart slowed to its usual rate she stepped slowly to the low wall that encircled the tenement’s roof.

The afternoon had passed quickly. The early scorching brilliance had cooled to a warming amber glow. It was as if all New York was lit by a soft lantern.

From her newfound vantage point, the streets that had confused and confounded her were now made clear. She stared down in something approaching wonder at how the paths of every life were laid open to her.

It could have been as though the people below were ants; scurrying around, small enough to block out with a fingertip. But to Katherine they remained giants.

Kneeling at the wall’s side, she spread out her notebook on the top and began to write.

The notes were quick, barely long enough for shorthand. There certainly wasn’t anything there that could make a front page.

However, the first step was taken. She could begin to make sense of the city. And once she had made sense of it, she could begin to change it.

***

It is much easier to take that step upwards now that a calloused hand takes hers and guides her to the top of the fire escape. With that hand Jack pulls her into his arms and up to the top of the world.

As the evening falls they sit with their backs to the smooth bricks of the cooling chimneys and watch the sun set fire to the New York skyline.

Once she had pointed out to Jack that it was mostly the filthy fumes and effluence of sweatshops and factories that allowed the light to dance so vividly before them.

Jack had laughed, said that sometimes you were allowed to take a quick break from justice and leaned into kiss her.

She had responded with no small amount of enthusiasm until he had said that the smoke wasn’t the only thing taking his breath away and she had been forced to dig him in the ribs with a bony elbow.

He was still forgiven when he managed to provide her with a gorgeous illustration for her piece on the poor air conditions suffered by the working classes the next week though.

***

Yes, it was easier to take that first upwards step now.

The rooftop was stolen moments for embraces, it was kisses that fell full on the mouth with no care for decorum, it was ‘I love you’ said right out loud and without fear. It was shared and it was theirs.

But it was also hers alone. It was the first landmark that she had mapped when she first explored her city.

It was the first blank page.


End file.
